There's one in most families. The "odd relative" the "black sheep" the "square peg." In ours it was the "eccentric" aunt. She was a beautiful, passionate woman who allowed no one tell her how to live her life. She was kind to a fault, humble, and funny. Her laughter was contagious, her comments were honest and at times crude (offending and shocking my mother's refined sensitivity). She never married, had many lovers and one daughter. She was a woman ahead of her time.
During her most "wild" years she lived with eight dogs in a one bedroom apartment which luckily led to a back garden. She was always full of hair and inevitably the "scent" of the dogs became her own. The dogs died and the passing of time made her even more "peculiar." She moved farther away, slowly started to reject our company and became a recluse sharing her apartment with one dog she found on the street, a sick parrot previously owned by the local bar (hence, the obscene vocabulary) and a one-eyed cat. Her love for animals knew no boundries, especially the ones in need. She'd spend her monthly pension mostly in food for her pets and hundreds of pigeons and birds that'd come to her balcony every day, much to the neighbors' dismay.
It was heartbreaking to drive up her street and see all the birds and pigeons standing there. Her true and faithful friends...the company she kept.
She passed away alone in her sleep and was found two days later. Afterwards, and for many, many days, the birds returned to their usual place of gathering looking for their good, trusted friend.
As I take a walk in the park, I am moved to tears whenever I see someone feeding the birds and yet, I am also comforted to see that my beloved aunt's love for animals is carried on by a kindred spirit.
Note: Photo by The Guardian uk
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